Nor of Heaven, nor of Earth,
Nor while within such pendulous moves,
Does arc from utter burning souls,
To songs of purest, sweetest hue.
His eyes on her lovely sight does feed,
Her furtive eyeing him askance,
He longs to show her all his need,
She fains to have him join her dance.
Their flashing glances mingle-moans,
While all too flooded with delight,
He hap'ly whispers 'I love you'.
That does not fail to bring to light,
That small account of love's
More gentle hand.

08/15/2011

Posted on 08/15/2011
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